


best friends mean (you get what you deserve)

by wishfulclicking



Category: Jennifer's Body (2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Mildly Dubious Consent, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-17
Updated: 2016-12-17
Packaged: 2018-09-09 08:15:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8883532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishfulclicking/pseuds/wishfulclicking
Summary: Needy fulfills a self-appointed calling. Jennifer is there to help.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seriousfic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seriousfic/gifts).



> Thanks to T for the beta. Title from Taking Back Sunday
> 
> This story contains canon level focus on violence (graphic description of murder and knife inflicted violence) and mocking attitude towards religious imagery.

Her shoulder ached from where the drummer had punched her before he’d gone flying into the wall from a well placed kick to the crotch It had been as good of a fight as someone like him could possibly have given someone like her. Offering her money, begging her to stop, he resisted until the very end but he couldn’t stop justice. She would accept no apologies, no mercy was in her, only a single drive to feed each member of Low Shoulder to her knife. 

Needy didn’t wait to watch him die; not like she had with the guitarist. The first time had been novel: rushed movements, too much noise that would have got her noticed if not for the dark alley in the wrong part of town with the noise of a club masking any possible wrongdoing in the area. The guy had just finished fucking a groupie in the back, dick freshly tucked into his jeans, and a smear of glitter from her makeup across his neck, when Needy had struck. It hadn’t been as quick or clean as she’d have liked. His body was warm as she slid in the blade and welcomed it with a surprised grunt. He had fought her with every stab; performing a sick dance in a macabre mimicry of his previous activities. _For Chip_ , she had whispered to herself, _for Jennifer_. 

That had been a ten days ago. It wasn’t front page news: a fire had broken out at the club--faulty wiring--taking with it any chance of the guitarist being immediately found or identified. Now, she was in the drummer’s apartment, listening as his moans quieted as she scrolled through his phone for any more recent communication with the remaining members of his band.

‘Look at my Needy, all grown up and killing boys,’ a voice said from somewhere she couldn’t see.

_Jennifer?_ Straightening in the chair, Needy held the blade loosely to her side before she turned in the direction of the voice to find nothing. ‘You’re dead,’ she said because no matter what others and reports had said she never suffered from hallucinations. 

‘Not quite, Monistat,’ and Jennifer was there, flesh and warmth, fully behind her. 

As permanent as Jennifer had been behind her seconds before, she was its complete opposite as Needy brought a blade to where her heart should have been only to meet air and the apartment’s floor as she was too distracted to levitate to stop the fall. ‘What the fuck?’

‘Still cursing? We don’t have time for this. Meet me at the diner next to your shitty motel where you pretend to eat food.’ Jennifer winked then walked out of the door.

**

Needy did not go to the diner. She exited out the window of the drummer’s apartment, levitating briefly to cushion the landing, then walked to where she had hidden the car, an old station wagon given to her in payment for its former owner getting too comfortable with her while he thought she was sleeping, and drove the rest of the night.

Food and rest were becoming less required for her; it was if she was running on something besides shitty fast food and cramped naps in car backseats, but she couldn’t let herself linger too much on how she seemed to subsist on something other, or why she felt a surge of strength as each member of Low Shoulder went down, blood pooling around their dying bodies. Those thoughts could come later when her mission was done. But she was the only thing that could run on little. Twenty miles out of the town where her last two targets were meeting, in a dirty, gas station bathroom with the key attached to a long stick, Needy felt a flash of familiarity, a sense like whenever she would know Jennifer was waiting for her. It crawled up her spine, resting at the back of her neck like a distant embrace. 

The car was empty when she left the bathroom. Needy would not think on how she felt a twinge of disappointment. Driving the remaining distance went quickly even if she made care to drive the speed limit to avoid drawing any attention to herself. She didn’t need cops to pull her over while on her quest for bloody retribution. A disinterested clerk handed her a key to a room she wasn’t even sure she needed. 

Waiting on her bed was Jennifer, playing with the radio. ‘Not used to being stood up,’ she said once Needy closed the door.

‘Looks like we’re both getting used to things,’ said Needy, standing still against the door and forcing herself to appear at ease while she reassured herself she was fast enough to grab the knife. ‘What the hell is going on?’

‘Now she wants to speak,’ said the thing wearing Jennifer’s body. ‘Why didn’t you come to the diner?’

‘No.’ Needy was faster this time, shoving the thing against the dresser before putting the knife to the creature’s neck, pressing just hard enough to show that she could. ‘I saw you die.’

‘Yes, and you used to wear ugly glasses and was afraid for anyone to look at you and here we are. Things have fucking changed.’ It sighed, leaned into the knife. ‘You did kill something on my bed, but technically I died when Satan’s finely coiffed agents decided to stick me in not the fun way on a tree trunk. The epilogue of my life was ghostwritten by a demonic hand.’ The thing turned with Jennifer’s painfully familiar expression like she was waiting for Needy to catch up to wherever she was headed. ‘I am Jennifer. I was dead, and now I’m something else.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question.’ She pressed down harder and as quickly as a trickle of blood began to form the wound began to close. 

‘Say my name and I’ll be nicer.’

‘Fine,’ she gritted her teeth, ‘Jennifer.’

‘See, not so hard,’ the thing paused a beat then smiled, ‘...she said.’ 

‘What are you,’ repeated Needy.

‘Jennifer. Your BFF. Not a demon. Not a human. Something else.’ She reached out and touched Needy’s neck, as if Needy wasn’t holding a knife to her heart. Maybe it didn’t matter that she was. The thing wearing Jennifer’s body stroked her neck where her BFF necklace used to lie; she hadn’t had time to find her belongings when she left the asylum; she half expected that trash heap had sold off anything of value and burned the rest. ‘Heaven didn’t know what to do with me.’

‘Unbelievable.’

‘Heaven is real, Anita! All those Sunday School lessons weren’t complete shit’ it said, before pushing Needy back towards the bed. ‘If you can accept that Low Shoulder killed me in satanic sacrifice for mid-level success in the dying music industry-- and I hope you did accept that or you are the worst type of obsessed fan stalking a band across the country--then you can accept that you managed to kill the demon on my bed and that here I am not a demon in front of you.’

Needy shook her head. ‘No, fine the demon stuff I believe. You in heaven is the tough part.’ Needy sat on the bed, looking over her companion. The thing looked totally like Jennifer before she adopted her cannibal diet: gorgeous skin, full hair, tight jeans and even tighter top with a padded bra.

‘That hurts, Needy.’ She mimed a big X with her fingers. ‘Boo, you’re crossed out.’

‘Why now?’She held its gaze as it moved closer. ‘Why you?’

‘You think bureaucracy is bad here, it’s magnum worse up there.’ She waved her hand towards the ceiling. ‘Like, honestly, Needy, so much time waiting. So some people talked about my situation and it turns out that eating boys is not a capital sin, especially when you’re sacrificed by Satan’s minions pre that cannibal feast. Like, I’m sure if I was Bundying boys before Low Shoulder, it may have been more clear cut, but you know me--’ she shot Needy a grin like the one she used to whenever she managed to avoid punishment--’just a small town girl caught up in poor circumstance.’ 

‘So no hell for you? Purgatory?’

‘Don’t sound sad Needy. You think I would leave my BFF alone, especially on her tour of vengeance in my name?’ Jennifer, or at least the thing wearing her body, moved to sit beside Needy on the bed. No hesitation marred her movements as she slid closer, reaching out to cover Needy’s cold hand with her own warmth. Why wasn’t she moving? ‘Your problem is that you’ve always liked to think too much, always scared to do something. Not anymore, huh?’ It--she--chuckled against Needy’s neck, sending the ghost feelings of touch down her back. ‘Sleep a bit, you’ll feel better in the morning,’ she said and Needy closed her eyes.

**

She was warmer than she had been for months. Dreams shuffled towards her during the night of her mom crying at her sentencing, Jennifer’s mom scream, Jennifer drowning her in the pool with Chip’s corpse a silent witness, dying in the bathroom with Jennifer clinging while the smoke choked them before the fire incinerated them. Something grabbed her then the landscape shifted and she was flying, looking down on herself in an alley taking what was owed and then----

Emptiness greeted her. Her room was silent, and there was no sign of anyone or anything else in the room besides her. Yesterday’s clothes didn’t smell too bad and her hair hung limp down her back. Hunger began to gnaw at her, but she ignored it. She sat on the bed longer than she had intended, waiting for something she couldn’t acknowledge.

Five minutes to gather everything she needed to leave--return the keys to the distracted clerk, check the news for anything important (nothing, still no mention of Low Shoulder besides that fucking song), and scan the communities again to make sure nothing had changed. A donut paired with bitter coffee for breakfast that sat poorly on her stomach but did make her feel something besides what she was trying to ignore. Then Needy was back in the station wagon, driving like a good citizen, on her way to commit double homicide.

The club where Low Shoulder was to perform at was small--intimate just for the fans the link had said--with only street parking or a garage for a fee available. How they were going to perform with two of their members missing Needy didn’t care, but it wasn’t as if they were going to make the show tonight if Needy had her way. She knew the hotel they were staying at and, while it would be easier to wait until after the show when the security should be more lax, why delay the inevitable? 

Nikolai and the bassist would have been dead if not for the fact that they weren’t waiting at the hotel for her to slice their throats. Instead, like other bands apparently, they were already at the club getting ready to set up and doing soundcheck and weren’t expected back until after the show. Did the world need another performance of ‘Through the Trees’, well, no; but Needy was happy to make it their last. 

Twenty-five dollars felt like too much for the tickets but part of her wanted to see them, to see if they were reacting any to their friends missing; were they sensing their coming end or was it all going to be one big surprise for them they way it had been for Jennifer. Mostly girls surrounded her in shiny dresses, cellphones grasped in hand, makeup bright, moving in motion as one body reacting to the band on stage. The opening act had been half ignored, and then Nikolai strutted on stage, made jokes about his missed bandmates and started a call and response of their names with half of the club responsible for the drummer and the other half for the guitarist. Their screams were loud but to no purpose; but he would be joining his friends soon enough. 

After that moment of crowd noise, Low Shoulder started performing and Needy never had been seriously into music, that was more of a Chip or Jennifer thing, but Low Shoulder seemed little more than average to her, all swagger and middling lyrics. Through the trees, what the fuck? But the crowd sung it right back at them, pulled along by an invisible hand, raising their arms in faux supplication. _These fuckers needed better taste_ , Needy thought.

Before the dark comedy that was now her life she never had liked crowds, and she liked them even less now. Too many people were pressing against her, surrounding her from all sides; not suffocation but she felt a fight stirring within. Above the stink of clustered humanity threaded with alcohol and cheap perfume, a sharp scent rose above pulling Needy’s attention--light, the pure summer days when her and Jennifer filled their time at the park and pretend games of king and queen--the smell was so distracting and out of place that she could only tense up as a pair of arms encircled her, brought her flush against its front, and even without the blazing heat being emitted, Needy didn’t need to look behind her to know it was Jennifer pressed flush against her, forcing her into a slipshod rhythm to Low Shoulder’s melody. 

‘Miss me,’ she whispered against Needy’s neck. Every inch where Jennifer’s lips met her skin surged as if set ablaze after being long dormant. How long had it been since anyone had touched her? Months, but it felt like a lifetime. ‘Of course you did, how would I be here if you didn’t’ she said and ran her thumb along the space where Needy’s sweatpants met the old, thin t-shirt she had stolen from donation box two days after her escape from the asylum. Jennifer was warm and Needy had been so cold for months. No one was looking at them, locked in their own private dance while Jennifer’s tongue drew lazy swipes against Needy’s neck with one hand locking her tight against her body while the other breached her sweatpants and underwear in one confident slide.

‘What,’ Needy gasped but only moved to shift her legs slightly wider. _What are you doing? Why can’t anyone see?_ were the thoughts rushing through her head as Jennifer brushed two fingers against Needy’s clit before swiping further at the wetness that had started to gather, then returning, honed at the center that was sending Needy out of her skin with every touch. It was almost too much, which may have been the point, but every stroke of Jennifer’s fingers brought her closer, stroking a fire raging throughout her body, and leading to her eventual self-immolation. Sharp edges of the sequins on Jennifer’s dress dug into the flesh of her back where her shirt had ridden up, and Jennifer’s other arm locked her into their embrace in their own personal bubble of ruination. Sequins dug into her back and the waves of pain laced pleasure threaded through her body as Jennifer would not stop until Needy came apart; the heaviness of Jennifer’s mouth against her neck, sucking, no, biting into the already sore flesh. _Consuming you_ a traitorous memory whispered and Needy broke the hold and ran.

Cool air struck her once she was outside, every place where Jennifer had touched her tingling in the aftermath as she bent over, gasping for air. Not many people were on the street outside the club, but Needy could imagine the sight she made: hair loose, threadbare shirt clinging to damp skin, pants too low on her hips for decency. Though she didn’t need to look up to acknowledge Jennifer’s proximity as the heat washing over her was all the indication she needed that she wasn’t alone, she looked up at Jennifer nonchalantly licking her fingers with a self-satisfied smile before she blew a kiss in Needy’s direction.

‘What was that?’ Needy said, voice harsh. ‘What--no, why are you here?’ She straightened up from her bent position. ‘No more bullshit. What are you doing here? Was that--whatever that was--supposed to stop me?’

‘That was what you wanted.’ Jennifer put her hands on her hips and tilted her leg just so to pull up her already short dress even further. ‘I am what you want.’

‘No. Fine. You’re not a demon, but if you’re what, my guardian angel or entity of what-the-fuckever then why is it you? Why not someone else like--’ she was yelling now but she didn’t care. No one was looking in their direction, and no one had looked in her direction for the entire night, and why the fuck was she just noticing this?

‘Someone like Chip?’ said Jennifer, all condescension. ‘Come on, Needy, do you think you were meant for that walking mediocrity for long? What do you think he would do in this situation if he hadn’t fucked off to the great big light beyond the sky? Help you? Or stop you? I think he wouldn’t help you not be noticed. I think he wouldn’t have set a fire in a club to help you hide the evidence of your sloppy knife fuck in a dark alley with a certain guitarist of a certain new indie sensation.’

‘Fuck you.’

‘Yeah, you do want that don’t you?’

‘Don’t talk about Chip like that, you killed him and--’

‘Enough, Needy. Stop trying to make this about something so unimportant. You know when you die and they’re sorting out between heaven and hell there are lanes? For some, it’s an easy decision--swipe left or right. I’m sure it was easy for heartbroken boy who died saving his first love from a demon. No complications. For me, it was an agony. Something kept pulling me back, howling.’ She pulled Needy by the jacket and shoved her against the wall. ‘You. It was you pulling me back.

‘You had a choice,’ she continued, ‘You could have grieved for Chip, put on a boring black dress, let his little sister rub snot all over you, said some trite shit while he was lowered in the grave. You could have mourned, then moved on, and went to college with a better story than anyone else to make you seem more interesting than you actually would have been.’ She stroked the side of Needy’s face with an alarming gentleness reflected in her expression. ‘But you didn’t. You did all of this and said my name at the end of it all. Of course I’m here, you keep calling me.’

Nobody is watching them; if Jennifer was telling the truth, then they couldn’t if they wanted to. Nothing was stopping her from doing whatever she wanted. She could probably haul Nikolai out here and behead him slowly. Instead, she brought down Jennifer’s lips to hers and kissed her with more violence than tenderness. Blood and cheap lip gloss made a heady mixture, or maybe it was just what Jennifer was doing, had always done to her; but she didn’t want to stop, wanted to push further, and Jennifer was letting her. ‘I’m finishing this, ’ she said with Jennifer inches from her face and the taste of her still on her tongue. ‘When this is done you’ll be gone.’

‘Whatever you want,’ said Jennifer, with a wry grin on her face as she watched Needy walk back into the club, without the security even looking in her direction.  
**

It was easier than it should have been to get into where Nikolai and the bassist were holed up for the night. Killing them was even easier: blood splashed against walls in confident streaks, and screams buried under the loud music they had been rudely playing before she had surprised them. The bassist had been quick. Nikolai she made suffer. At the end she whispered _Jennifer_ to their cooling corpses and left with a stolen bottle of expensive wine under her jacket and knife still warm with their blood against her skin. 

No one stopped her on her way back to the parking garage. She started the car and, for once, ‘Through the Trees’ didn’t make her want to commit a murder. Needy closed her eyes briefly only to savor the moment, and when she opened them Jennifer was in the passenger seat.

Jennifer leaned closer. 

‘You’re not supposed to be here,’ Needy said.

‘Funny,’ Jennifer tilted her head, ‘neither are you.’


End file.
